


Planes are overrated

by AdveturesofJo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Author does not like planes, Aviophobia, F/M, Implied unrequited Benny/Dean, Lost Cellphone, M/M, Non-Supernatural AU, Trains, do I need to add more tags, implied pining, opposite of slow burn, this is more complicated than I thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2148018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdveturesofJo/pseuds/AdveturesofJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel does not like planes. Dean has a car. And a cellphone. Until he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Planes are overrated

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fanction and I'm not a native speaker of English. If you find any mistakes, please let me know.  
> Enjoy!

Dean Winchester stepped outside the little coffeehouse, steaming paper cup in his hands, when someone tapped his shoulder.  
“Hey, Dean isn’t it?”  
He turned around to see a cute redhead, and a dark-haired man in her shadow. Annie? Anna? She worked at the same law firm as his brother Sam did and Dean had met her once or twice at some official shit party thingy.  
“Oh, hi, err, Aaann…-”  
“Anna” she said, smiling.  
“I knew that” Dean replied, shooting a charming smile her way. She blushed.  
“Hey, uum, could you do me a favour? This is my brother Castiel. He needs to go to the train station in Kansas City, but my car broke down. Could you bring him?”  
“Uuh, sure. I’ve got the day off anyway, so...” Dean said, a little surprised. “Let’s go?”  
“Yes,” Castiel said, “I would like to catch my train in time. We should hurry. ”  
Wow. That voice. Like gravel, with a dash of metal scraps and six packs of cigarettes a day. A little shudder went through Dean. He blinked once, twice, and then mentally kicked himself for staring at the poor guy like some creep. Well, there goes a good impression. Dean quickly walked over to his baby – a very nice, self-restored ’67 Chevrolet Impala-which was parked two cars away. He looked over his shoulder once, to make sure Anna’s brother was following him. Then he promptly realized he shouldn’t have done that. Castiel –that was his name right? - was right behind him. Literally. Only a quick step back from Dean managed to prevent bumping into each other. Dude was quiet as fuck, like a superninja or something. “Dude,” Dean joked, “personal space?”  
“My apologies” mumbled Castiel.

“So...train station? Not a lot of people go by train these days.” Dean said, trying to start some small talk with this man. Who was, he discovered, absolutely smoking hot. Tall, just a tad shorter than himself, dark brown hair that seemed to be in a perpetual sex hair state, lean yet clearly muscled and to top it off, the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen.  
“Yes. I do not like airplanes, so if other methods of transportation are available I rather take those.”  
God, this guy’s voice would be the ultimate phone sex voice. Which lead to a fantasy of how the guy would sound, squirming and sweating underneath him. Or maybe on top of him. Dean usually preferred to be on top, but this guy... Then he made himself think about that one time he caught Sam and Jess sans clothes on Sam’s sofa, ‘cause his jeans were getting awfully tight and little brothers engaged in naked activities usually did the job to prevent awkward boners. Damn his vivid imagination.  
“Thank you for taking me there, I appreciate it very much” Castiel rumbled  
“Yeah, no problem Cas, I don’t like planes either. I mean, c’mon, who the hell thought flying metal tubes were a good idea anyway?”  
Dean saw the corner of Cas’s mouth twitch and couldn’t help but wonder what a full gums’n’teeth smile would look like on that handsome face.

The drive went smoothly –Dean and Cas seemed to share a love for classic rock; Cas knew all songs by The Who, but also appreciated Led Zeppelin, which scored him an awful load of brownie points in Dean’s book. Not that the guy needed it. Hell, he could like that Indie stuff Sammy always listened to and Dean would still want to get to third base with him.

They arrived at the train station. Dean was disappointed to see Cas go; he knew it was very unrealistic that he would see Cas again. During the ride, Cas had informed Dean that he got a job transferral to California. Not exactly close to Lawrence, where Dean lived. But Castiel was awesome, so Dean decided to make a move anyways.  
“Hey, uum, if you’re ever ‘round again, maybe you could, uum, give me a call?” Smooth Winchester. Way to make yourself look confident. But, to Dean’s surprise, Castiel accepted the piece of paper, with a blush and a quiet “Thank you Dean. I will. And thanks again for the lift.”  
\---  
Dean had just turned on the road again when his phone buzzed. Incoming text.

__

09:05 new message  
 _My train was cancelled. It would be immensely kind of you if you could pick me up again. There is no new train scheduled until tomorrow morning. –Castiel_

Well. Would you look at that, seemed like Dean was lucky after all. He made a sharp turn, ignored several angry honks, and drove back to the train station.  
 _09:05 sent message_  
 _Sure, on my way -D_  
\---  
“Y’know Cas, I never would have thought you to be that bossy. Not that I’m complaining. ‘Cause I’m not.” Dean said with an embarrassingly hoarse voice. Man, even he didn’t know he could be such a screamer. But Cas did have a wicked tongue and strong runner thighs, so Dean forgave himself for getting a bit carried away during the best sex he had ever had.  
Cas snorted and rolled over, draping himself over Dean’s chest.  
“Hmmm. Well, now you do, ready for round two?”

\---  
Dean awoke to a shrill beeping.  
“Mmmph, wha ‘time s’it?”  
“Shit. It’s eight already. Dean, my train leaves in half an hour. Could you bring me to the station again? I’m sorry for asking, but I really have to be on that train.”  
It was too early for heavy thinking, so Dean just mumbled an affirmation, pulled on some pants and a somewhat clean tee, grabbed his keys and wallet, and off they were.

“Hey Cas? If you’re ever around here again, don’t hesitate to let me know ‘kay?”  
“Most certainly. I very much enjoyed our... time together.” 

And with a blush and a wink, Castiel was off.

\---

When Dean got home again, he decided to try and get some more sleep. Last night wasn’t exactly restful, since both he and Cas apparently had really good stamina and an even bigger libido. The sheets still smelled of Cas and sex and a dash of fabric softener. Dean set his alarm to 11 a.m; he only had to be at the garage at 1pm.

Only, he found that when his alarm went off, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. His mind drifted to Cas again, thinking about those ethereal blue eyes and strong jaw. His nice voice. His strong hands. His nice, big...  
Dean stilled. No! Bad thoughts! He had to get himself together. Or not. He could spare a few minutes, right enough time time for a ‘hello man did you get there alright’-text. Only, when Dean patted the pockets of his jeans in search for his cell, he noticed it wasn’t there. Maybe it’d fallen out when he and Cas entered the apartment?  
No dice. It wasn’t in the living room, the bathroom, his bedroom, not even in his tiny kitchen. Dean even took the sheets of his bed –it could’ve slipped in there somewhere- but it just wasn’t there. Crap. So, he lost his phone. Not that much of a problem, as he knew the important numbers (Sammy’s cell, Jess’s, Bobby’s, Benny’s, Jo’s and Charlie’s) by heart. Only...Castiel’s number was in there too. And nowhere else. He lost Castiel’s number and there was no way for Cas to contact him, because any text or call directed to his number would be lost because of his fucking phone. Dean felt really bad all of the sudden. Maybe Cas had texted him or called him and thought that, because he got no answer, Dean didn’t want to talk to him. Crap. He figured that maybe he’d get an idea of what to do next in his ‘get Cas back in my bed’ plan.  
Dean took a shower, decided that today was a scruff-is-okay-day –shaving was so boring- , threw on a tee and jeans and got in the Impala to drive to the work. He’d pick up some breakfast on the way.

Or not. Once Dean passed his favourite little bakery –they had the best breakfast special which included a bun at choice and a cup of coffee for only three dollars- he found that he wasn’t hungry. At all. Well, not for food. He did feel a certain longing to a certain someone. But that was ridiculous; he’d only known Castiel for a day. Or well, more like for half a day and a night. A really good, intense, passionate night. Still, not too long, certainly not long enough to actually want someone that much, right? By the way, he didn’t have any manner to contact the guy. Not without his phone. Damn. 

Once he arrived at the garage, he needed ten minutes to make himself get out of the car and in his office. He felt a bit...confused? Dazed? Dean couldn’t stop thinking about Castiel; had he gotten home safely? Did he like his new department? Were the people nice to him? With no cell to ask, Dean could only wonder.

Even after he finished his first car of the day (just an oil change, no biggie), his mind kept on worrying about that odd blue eyed guy, who loved The Who, had a stepsister and three older brothers, drove a dark blue ‘74 Ford Mustang and was also a sex god. Dean still felt the aftermath of that last quality. His ass was sore and his voice a bit rougher than usual. Not that he minded. In fact, Dean didn’t mind at all, he absolutely wanted to meet up with Cas and let the guy fuck him into the mattress again. Nice and slow or hard and fast, it didn’t really matter to Dean, as long as Cas was with him.

Dean was startled from his daydream when Benny thumped a mug of coffee on his desk, where Dean should’ve been checking his schedule to see what other cars needed his attention.  
“Hey there brother. You doing okay there?”  
Dean blinked and was suddenly very happy that he was sitting at his desk, because his boner didn’t seem in the mood to back down anytime soon. Damn Castiel Novak and his handsome face and wicked tongue and firm backside.  
“Uh, yeah. I’m, uum, just a bit...tired. Yeah, I’m tired. Didn’t sleep too well.”  
“Didn’t sleep to well? Or...are you just tired because you got laid?”  
“Wha-how-what?” Dean sputtered. “How can you possibly know that!?”  
“So it’s true?” was Benny’s cheeky reply.  
Dean blushed.  
“Brother, I’ve never seen someone as relaxed as you twitch and shift so much on his chair the way you just did. So either you have to pee real bad, or your fine butt is sore. And I know you’d take any opportunity you got t’a get a break, so it isn’t the first option.”  
Dean let the comment on his ‘fine butt’ slide; Benny and he flirted around quite a bit, but they both knew it was just for giggles. At least, Dean was pretty sure it was. Benny did seem rather fond of staring at Dean’s backside when he was bent over the hood of some car.  
“Yeah, well, so what if I did. Am I not allowed to have a little fun anymore?”  
Benny arched one eyebrow (Dean really wanted to be able to do that too, but he just couldn’t and it frustrated him to no end) and let out a huff.  
“Brother, you sure you’re okay?”  
Dean wasn’t sure. He felt a bit at loss.  
“Y’know, maybe I should just head home. I’m not feeling too well. You mind tellin’ Bobby?”  
“Sure. You get some rest now. I’ll fill in for ya, no problem”

So, Dean went back home. And straight to bed. 

\--

Dean woke to someone shaking his shoulders. He didn’t feel like waking up and decided that throwing a pillow at his offender would be the most dignified response. Sam did not think so, and countered by pulling Dean’s sheets off his bed.  
“Dude! What’s your problem!”  
“I could ask you the same” Sam answered, bitchface #13 firmly in place. “You haven’t been at work for two days, you ignore my texts and calls, and man, Benny actually texted me to check up on you, ‘cause you wouldn’t open your door. What the hell Dean?”  
Dean did not pout. He did not, no way. He did, however, stick out his lower lip and frowned. Not pouted, frowned. He was a fully grown man damnit.  
“Sam, no offence, but I can take care of myself, thank you very much. I also lost my phone. Now get out. I’m sleeping.”  
“Like hell you are! If this is about Castiel, you are now officially a moping teenager. Get your butt in gear and figure out what to do, ‘cause this is just ridiculous.”  
Now wait just a minute.  
“Wait. How the fuck do you know ‘bout Castiel?”  
Sam sighed and went from bitchface #13 to an impressive and rare #17, which made him look like a constipated moose.  
“Anna told me. She says her brother has been acting weird since you guys met, and decided to ask me to ask you what is going on.”  
Wait, what?  
“Anna?”  
“Yes, Anna, my superior Anna Milton who is also the rather protective older stepsister of one Castiel Novak. Ring a bell?”  
“Well, duh, but dude, do you have her number?”  
“What?” Sam squeaked “Dean! I will not allow you to sleep with my boss. Nu-uh, no way.”  
“Bitch, I need her number to ask her for Cas’s number, because I lost my phone which had his number in it. Jeez, you really thought I’d go for her when there’s a sex god with an awesome libido like Cas walking ‘round?”  
Sam blushed at that. “Dean! Can it?!” Well, it was his own fault. Anna was cute, yes, but Castiel was everything Dean could ever want poured in a six foot dark haired man. And if Sam had some unwanted visuals because of Dean’s wording, then that was his own problem.  
“I really did not need to hear that. But because you’re my brother and because for some reason I love you, here’s Anna’s number.”  
Dean smiled as he typed out a new message.  
 _To: Anna Milton_  
Hi Anna, it’s Dean. Could you give me Castiel’s number? Lost my phone and the number with it. –D  
Dean looked the message over, decided to add a “please” and pressed send.  
Almost immediately the phone chirped:

__

11.36 New message  
 _Oh finally! Castiel’s been bugging me about you and it’s driving me nuts. CALL HIM_  
_  
 _(One attachement)_

Aaaaw yes! She added the number. Dean grinned and wrote it down twice, on two different papers. He didn’t want to lose it again and didn’t want to take any chances.  
Then he noticed Sam was still there.  
“Dude, get out. I’m gonna buy me a new cell and then have some phonesex. And I’m having a feeling you don’t want to be here when I do.”  
“Dean, gross! I was about to go anyway. Hey, don’t forget to come over Friday, ‘kay? Jess said she’d make blueberry pie.”  
Hmmm. Pie. Maybe he and Cas could go out for pie. Or test the stickiness of apple pie filling on collarbone versus abdomen. Now that would make an interesting naked experiment.  
“Hm, yeah, got it Sammy. See you Friday, pie, Jess. Got it.”

\---

Castiel got in some weird argument with his Californian boss – Zachariah was a douche- and got transferred back to Topeka, Kansas. After three months, he moved in with Dean. 

And apple pie filling stuck better to the abdomen.


End file.
